A short walk to Fairy Glen

The beauty of Mussoorie - or of Landour - is in its trees.

There is something for everyone.

Coming up from the plains - tired and out of breath - we normally start out with small walks around the 'chukkar' at the top of the hill.

To walk around through those leafy boughs is to step back into a place where we belong. The quiet - punctuated by the occassional rustle of the trees - and your footsteps has to be felt.

In the constant metal noise around me (fans, dogs outside, aircons in neighbouring homes, the dull rumble of traffic and machinery) we rarely if ever hear silence. A short walk around the chukkar does that for you. Plus there is the bonus of a bun-omlette or other culinary delights at Anil's place in Char Dukhan at the end.

And if you are tired - well - then your Daddy can carry you!


OK. So the Chukkar has been done. Maybe even repeated.

What is next.

Fairy Glen of course.

Thanks to the unbelievable amount of hill real estate that Woodstock School has - we actually have what is one of the most beautiful forests around draped over the side of that blessed hill.

And Fairy Glen lives up to its pixie like name.

For us in Shanti Kunj - we start with a small climb to Sisters Bazaar. And then a short stroll along the ridge of the hill behind the ITM.

Then we descend into beauty.

Where do you get to see such looooong trees? These would have done yeoman service as the main mast of some British merchantman. Some would actually pin the rise of Empire forestry on this very need - naval supplies after the saucy American colonies rebelled against the Raj - meant that the Raj took over the forests in India - importing a German (Schlich) to help set up a scientific regime.

But don't let that spoil the sheer joy of being out in the open.


The walk down the hill to Fairy Glen is a total joy. Rich varied forests - the hills peeping through the trees behind. Every rock covered with some kind of moss. Small bright red lady-birds making their unhurried way in the world.

Perfect for young and old.

Then you come to the mixed forest area of Fairy Glen itself. It is a flattened area (probably old fields) which is surrounded by majestic trees.


Just in case you don't know where you are - there is a sign announcing that this is the real mccoy (or perhaps that should be the asli dham).


The flat area is ideal for picnics. And games. And badminton. And cooking out (we didn't do that this time).

The steep drop - as usual in the wonderful Mussoorie way of khuds and clambering up and down - means that a frisbee will often sail away down. And a delightful search and rescue party then forms to find the errant disc.

Our own professionals quickly took over - and did a fine job at recovering the truant articles - under the watchful supervision of Stefan Uncle.


The other thing that having a beautiful forest all round you - especially when you are a kid - is the amazing games of hide-and-seek that can be played.

We had our share - and thoroughly enjoyed creeping through the undergrowth while the hapless person who was "it" searched for us.


We wound up our Fairy Glen excursion this year a little early in the afternoon as we saw the sky darken. Clouds started scudding in and we packed up and started climbing the path back to the top of the hill.

As soon as we reached the ridge the rain started. Gentle drops of coldness. We were well decked out with wind-cheaters and hats and so were happily trotted along with Asha trying to 'drink water from the sky.'

We made it down to Shanti Kunj slightly damp and in high spirits. And then we had the luxury of being indoors in the warmth of home while the hail fell in sheets outside. The tin roof of Shanti Kunj sang as the hail stones whinged down from on high. Summer storms in Mussoorie have their special charm (if you are indoors with a good cup of hot coffee in your hand that is).

A day to remember. A time to cherish. Another loop of beauty experienced and lived out together.

This is the life.

Shanti Kunj days - tastes of paradise

These are the days of miracle and wonder,
This is a long distance call,
The way the camera follows us in slow-mo
The way we look to us all
(Paul Simon - Boy in the Bubble)

The last 2 weeks have been a long-drawn out taste of beauty.

Asha and her cousin Joanna wake to a new day at Shanti Kunj.

What will the day entail?

A session on the front-porch swing? Note the elegant hats our ladies are decked out in...

Or will it be baking chocolate-chip cookies with Oma?


Maybe it will include listening to Enoch tickle the keys

With enthusiastic contributions from cousin Ashish too?


The possibilities are endless...

When we have the joy of having the 4 cousins together (Anjali badly missed this time) at Shanti Kunj...

There is no end of things that can be done!

We were so glad to have Stefan and Ashish up with us for the first few days of our time with Oma and Opa in Mussoorie.


Writing this from the pre-monsoonal sweat-bath of Thane the whole time seems like some kind of a beautiful dream. And it was. In fact it was the best kind of dream - the lived out one. The one where we knew that all this goodness was real - and that we were living through it!

The dream was as real as Oma's flowers from her 'greenhouse'

And as real as the cherished set of memories that we take back with us. Memories of attempting a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle (almost but not quite completed):



Wer will fleissige handwerker sehn? There is always lots of work to do at Shanti Kunj. The need for construction workers for the building of mountain roadways remains acute:


We also did something that we used to do as kids - stuffing envelopes for one of Dad's mailings. The ambience of the family dining room added much - and having cheery helpers meant it was all over before it even seemed to have started.


The days are just packed.

Some days will have a hike...



While others were profitably whiled away through digging deep into literature. Both the Enid Blyton variety - as well as books read aloud like North or be Eaten! and the ever green library of Tintin and Asterix ....


High culture was greatly appreciated


by an enthusiastic audience:



One morning it was a costume and juice bazaar:


Complete with competent cashier:
Somebody hire the man!

And enthusiastic participants:


To sum up: all in all a fabulous time was had by all.

Many thanks to our loving parents for blessing us with these days of refreshing and joy!
Many thanks to loving Father for His blessings to us His special kids.

Back again

For the last day and a half we have been hurtling slowly across central India.

Our mode of transport - and air-conditioned wheeled box - attached to a series of other wheeled boxes.

The Amristar-Dadar Express certainly starts in Amritsar and certainly ends at Dadar. Whether it is an 'express' is more debatable - judging by the tiny stations across Madhya Pradesh and Maharashtra that we stopped in.

We were well stocked with books as we traversed the parched landscape (MP) which slowly gave way to greenery towards the end of yesterday. Why were there so many more fields of bananas, sugar cane and other crops in Maharashtra rather than in Madhya Pradesh? They both get about the same levels of rainfall? The difference to my eye were the many electric water pumps in Maharashtra. You don't find green without water. How much the local aquifers are being depleted is another question of course.

It was a strange journey. We started out with an awful 'thump' at 11 PM on the first night. We were all asleep and were horrified to see Enoch crying on the floor. He had fallen off from the upper side berth of the train in his sleep. He got a bad bruise just below his right eye. It was not a happy night for us. For half the day Enoch was quiet and reserved. A steady diet of books was consumed by all 4 Eichers. I read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to Enoch and myself. Towards the end of the day Enoch recovered his spirits - it was great to hear sounds of laughter pealing from Asha and Enoch again.

A short disturbed sleep second night and then we were about to get off at Thane station at 3 AM. We disembarked and were welcomed by the night heat. A short auto-rickshaw ride - crammed full of Eichers and luggage and we were back to our home!

We are literally enjoying a warm welcome back. The place has been shut up for the past 2 weeks and is like a tandoori oven. Being on the top floor means that the goodness of the sun gets soaked up by concrete and radiated down on you. Yesterday's paper told us that India has just been through the hottest April and May in 100 years according to the Indian Meteriological Department. Our hot baking welcome home makes us believe it!

Mussoorie was a wonderful cool dream - stay posted for more on our Mussoorie days...

Holiday reading

We leave for Mussoorie in a few minutes. The house is clean. We are all packed. A last shower and then down to the taxi - over to Borivali - onto the Rajdhani Express and then at 11 AM tomorrow we are going to be smothered in love from Ashish and Anjali, Stefan and Neeru - and Joanna, Victor and Sarah.

Late tomorrow night we take the night train to Dehra Dun - and should be up at Shanti Kunj, looking down from its blessed coolness on the wide sun-lit valley of Dun by about 8 AM on Sunday.

Here are some of the books that I am hoping to read on the "way up":

1. Living the Resurrection - Eugene Peterson
2. Gilead - Marilynne Robinson
3. North or be Eaten - Andrew Peterson
4. To Sir, with Love - E.R. Braithwaite
5. The Runaway - Patricia St.John

And there are more to come - a huge library awaits up in Mussoorie. What books will be devoured this summer hols?

What a delight books are - portable doors into other worlds - conversations that cross space and time.

Bliss

Streets of Gold

Why do people still come to Mumbai?

They come because its streets are streets of gold.

Check out this pic by Robert Stephens - architect, blogger, Ameri-desi...


Click on the photo for a view of the panorama of South Mumbai.

You can follow Roberts adventures at: www.premamilan.blogspot.com

Friends in high places

I stopped over at Lok Hospital to talk with Dr. Stephen Alfred today. Asha and Enoch were with me since their holidays are in full swing.

Stephen mentioned that he had an unexpected encounter on Monday afternoon. The State Bank of Travancore had out of the blue decided to donate an ambulance - and asked Stephen and the others to come for its handing over. Stephen, expecting a simple affair, went as he normally is dressed for the hospital - half shirt, comfortable pants.

When he got to the site it was posh. And everyone was dressed to the nines. There were 3 chairs on the podium. One chair for the MD of State Bank - one for Stephen - and one for .... Amitabh Bachchan.


"Who is Amitabh Bachchan?" asked Asha - who was listening on the story. When Stephen pulled out a newspaper with their picture in it - Asha said: "He's the guy on the chocolate."

Among Amitabh's many activities - being brand ambassador for Cadbury's chocolate is the one that has him known among the younger Eichers.

Stephen said that Amitabh was quite friendly and gave some gracious comments at the do. When it was Stephen's turn, he chose to go beyond the normal "thank you for the ambulance, we are so grateful" bit. Stephen told a bit about how he had come back to India to serve in the name of Christ, and shared some of range of activities that the trust is doing. He also challenged the audience not to take their privilege for granted. Not to think that they have acheived what they have by their own hard work alone. To acknowledge the grace of God and to realise that we all need to give back as well.

Who knows what each day will hold? We may find ourselves seated (unexpectedly as Dr. Stephen did) next to Amitabh Bachhan. We may be sitting next to one of our billion other countrymen (and women). Each one is precious. Each one deserves our respect and the earnest good that comes from conversation. As image-bearers of the divine creator - what a privilege it is to serve people - no matter how marred or splintered the original image may be at this point.

Dreaming of the hills

In 2 days we leave.

That amazing annual pilgrimage to the hills.

It seems like a mirage at this point - a flickering hope amidst the heat of today.

And yet May 14th has come closer and closer - and now is within striking distance.

Bags are in the process of being packed. Lists made and being ticked off. Work issues being worked through. Plants. No milk. Dog (wait - we don't have a dog - though there is a constant clamour for one by the junior Eichers).

Friday evening sees us board the Rajdhani for Delhi. Then a glorious day in Delhi with Stefan, Neeru, Ashish and Anjali - as well as Victor, Sarah and Joanna - and who knows how many other precious people.

Then the night train to Dehra Dun (literally - it leaves at 11.45 PM) and the joy of getting into Dehra early in the morning. A magical taxi ride through the 6 AM empty streets of the city (now the capital of Uttarakhand no less) - and the slow winding road up to Mussoorie.

Our kids will probably stop half way to retch a bit. Par for the course. But that will all be made up for by experiencing the coolness and seeing the beloved sights of oaks and pines - the joy of after bend of beauty unrolling before us - though it will be marred a bit when we see the ever-increasing pockets of hotels clustered on top of almost every hillock near the top.

And then finally, after scooting through the still sleepy town of Mussoorie - winding through the long linear bazaar of Landour - going up hair-pin after hair-pin to get to the top - the taxi will stop in a small spot at Sister's Bazaar.

Our parents will be there. Waiting for our taxi to grind to a halt. Cheery and bleary-eyed. Smiles as wide as the Himalaya. Warm hugs. A short prayer of thanks. Notes given to the taxi-driver - along with a tract or two. Then the joy as we walk down the short path to Shanti Kunj.

All this lies before us - beginning a short 48+ hours away....